35. Chapter 35
35
Chapter 35
Bronwen
Footsteps.
They echoed through the alley, slow, deliberate. My breath came in ragged gasps as I pressed myself against the cold stone wall, desperate to disappear into the shadows. But I knew it was useless.
A whisper of movement. A flash of silver in the moonlight. Then—
A hand clamped over my mouth, the grip unyielding as my body was wrenched from its hiding place. Panic exploded in my chest as I clawed at the fingers digging into my skin, but they held firm. My vision swam with terror as I was pulled against something solid, something unbudging.
“Shhh,” a voice purred, smooth as silk, laced with something dark and intoxicating. “I’ll be quick. I promise.”
Fangs sank into my throat, and a white-hot pain ripped through me. My body convulsed, my scream swallowed by the night. Every heartbeat slowed, my limbs growing weak, my struggles useless. The world blurred, edges fading into nothingness.
I was dying.
And then—I was gone.
I gasped awake, my body jerking upright in bed, drenched in sweat. My heart slammed against my ribs, my breath coming too fast, too shallow. My hands trembled as I pressed them to my face, willing myself to calm down. It was just another nightmare.
But the feeling of death still clung to me, wrapping around my limbs like chains. My skin tingled where the fangs had pierced in my nightmare, phantom pain lingering even in wakefulness. It was jarring—how different he was at night, how monstrous. The August that haunted my nightmares was a creature of hunger and cruelty, a shadow in the dark that felt nothing for me. But when I was awake, he was something else. Still dangerous, still manipulative, but there was something more. Something human.
“Damn it,” I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I braced my elbows on my knees and dropped my face into my hands.
I had forgotten to get him to bite me.
With a growl of frustration, I shoved myself up, crossing the room to grab a piece of charcoal from my dresser. Without hesitation, I yanked up my sleeve and scrawled the words onto the inside of my forearm in bold, smudged letters.
Make August bite me.
If I had to carve it into my skin to remember, I would. Because I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t keep dying in my sleep.
** *
The woods were quiet as I walked alongside August, the chill in the air biting at my skin through my cloak. Frost clung to the edges of fallen leaves, glittering faintly in the moonlight. The smell of damp earth and decaying foliage lingered in the air, grounding me in the moment despite the turmoil swirling in my thoughts.
“What are we going to do out in the cold that will make me feel better?” I asked, my tone edged with skepticism as I tugged my cloak tighter around my shoulders.
August glanced at me, a crooked smile playing at his lips. But there was something else there—something fleeting, like he was holding something back beneath the playful exterior. “Patience, Winnie. You’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes but followed as he led us deeper into the woods, ducking under low-hanging branches and stepping carefully over gnarled roots. Despite my irritation with him, a part of me welcomed the distraction.
“I want to see you do it again,” August said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.
I glanced at him. “Do what?”
“Kill a vampire.”
I raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through my guarded expression. “I could kill you,” I said, trying to bite back a smile.
“In due time,” he replied with a wink, his grin sharp and teasing.
I shook my head. “So you want me to kill a vampire. Do you not care about your kind?”
“They mean very little to me. ”
I didn’t respond immediately, his words striking a chord I hadn’t expected. I understood that feeling more than I wanted to admit. Other than my family, everyone else felt distant, unimportant. Witches shunned me, humans feared me, and vampires were monsters.
Except August.
I wasn’t sure what he was to me.
“How about that one?” I whispered, pointing toward a shadowy figure in the distance.
August followed my gaze, his smile fading as his eyes landed on the vampire. He was tall, with curly blonde hair tied back, his posture predatory as he fed on a young woman. The scene was grotesquely intimate, the girl’s body limp in his arms.
“Not that one,” August said firmly, his voice low. The teasing edge was gone, replaced by something hard, something almost wary. His usual smirk had vanished, and for the first time ever, he looked genuinely unsettled.
“Why?” I asked, my curiosity sharpening at his sudden shift in tone.
“Winnie, not that one.” He reached out, grabbing my arm to pull me away, his grip tighter than necessary. His eyes flickered with a hesitation I wasn’t used to seeing in him. “Let’s go.”
I bristled at his command, his touch igniting a spark of defiance. Who did he think he was, telling me what to do?
Fuck. That.
I grabbed his hair and pulled him down, yanking magic from him in the process and sending him sprawling to the ground.
The woods around me seemed to close in, the dense canopy overhead letting only faint streaks of moonlight illuminate the narrow paths. Every sound seemed amplified—the rustling leaves, the distant cry of a bird, the snap of a twig underfoot.
As I approached the vampire, I pulled the hood of my cloak down, letting the cool night air brush against my face. I slashed the palm of my hand on a jagged branch, the sharp sting grounding me as blood trickled onto the forest floor. The vampire dropped the lifeless body he’d been feeding on with a sickening thud, his eyes locking onto me.
He appeared before me in an instant, faster than I could track. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, his touch cold as he tucked it behind my ear.
“Such a pretty, pretty face,” he hissed, his words laced with malice. “A shame.”
I held his gaze, unflinching, even as chills ran down my spine. Something about his presence was wrong, his energy darker than anything I’d felt before. He must have been old—ancient, even. A part of me, reckless and insatiable, wanted to feel the rush of magic that would come from siphoning him. But another part, the one that whispered warnings I refused to heed, knew this was a mistake.
Just as he leaned in, his eyes darkening with intent, something shoved me back. I stumbled, catching my balance as a tall figure stepped between us. August.
“What are you doing?” the vampire growled.
“This one is mine,” August said in a tone I had never heard from him before. Authoritative. Unwavering. Powerful.
The words held no humor, no playfulness—just a quiet, dangerous certainty that made even the other vampire pause. It was the first time I had ever seen August as something other than infuriating. In that moment, he was terrifying.
I grabbed his arm and turned him to me, my frustration bubbling over. “I didn’t need your help. I thought you wanted—”
August silenced me with a hand over my mouth, his gaze darting past me. His eyes darkened, until his expression shifted to something closer to fear.
I turned to see what had caught his attention. Vampires emerged from the shadows, one by one, until we were surrounded. Their eyes gleamed with menace, their postures tense as they encircled us. The air grew heavier, the oppressive tension pressing against my chest.
The blonde vampire’s gaze shifted to me, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “You’ve marked her, Augustus. And she’s still alive.”
Augustus?
August stiffened beside me, his fingers twitching slightly as if resisting the urge to reach for me. “I’m having a little fun with her,” he said, his tone forced. “But when I am ready, I will kill her. No one else.”
The vampire sneered. “Her blood smells unlike anything I’ve encountered. Let me taste it.”
“No.” August stepped in front of me once again, using his arm to tuck me tightly behind him.
The vampires around us took a synchronized step forward at August’s rejection, their movements unnervingly precise. Their eyes glinted with quiet menace, their postures tense as if waiting for a single command to act.
“I don’t think you heard me correctly. I gave you a command. A simple one at that. Let me taste the girl, and I will be on my way.”
“No, Fa—” August paused, glancing around, seeing there was no way out. I could pull a little more magic from him and have us disappear before they could react, but the way he held my closed hand tightly in his told me he didn’t want me to do that. Barely above a whisper, he said, “Father, please.”
The word hung in the air like a death knell. Father.
The vampire . . . August’s father’s demeanor shifted, curiosity melting into something colder, sharper—an anger that seemed to drain the air from the clearing. August didn’t flinch, but I saw the subtle way his shoulders tensed, his jaw tightening as though he were bracing for a blow. His usually smooth demeanor cracked, revealing something raw beneath it—a quiet fear he couldn’t quite mask.
August hesitated before pulling me to his side. When he took my hand, his grip was firm but trembling slightly, as if the act itself cost him more than he would admit. The blood crusted on my skin made the gesture feel grotesquely intimate, a sign of reluctant surrender as he extended my hand toward his father. His fingers lingered for a moment too long, as if silently pleading for forgiveness he would never ask for aloud.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I tried to pull my hand free. August’s eyes met mine, wide with something that looked like desperation. It was the quietest, most vulnerable I had ever seen him, the air between us heavy with unspoken words. I could read the message in his gaze as clearly as if he’d shouted it: Don’t fight. Please don’t fight.
I stopped fighting, allowing August to hold me with his arms wrapped around me as his father took a step closer. He grabbed my hand and slowly brought it to his face.
Every natural instinct inside of me told me to wrap my hand around his face and stop him, but I fought it. I knew even if I managed to stop this vampire, I wouldn’t be able to stop the six others that were waiting for one wrong move to attack.
And knowing that this was somehow August’s father, I couldn’t count on him if I was to fight back. It was his father after all. And I wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who hurt my father.
He sank his teeth in, and sharp, searing pain shot through me, stealing my breath. He drank alarmingly fast, his movements precise and methodical—the mark of someone who had done this countless times before. A twisted mix of terror and betrayal churned in my stomach, each pulse of my blood a reminder of how powerless I was in that moment.
I kept my glare fixed on August, a fiery mix of pain and betrayal coursing through me. How could he let this happen? My mind screamed at him, but my body was too weak to do more than endure. And yet, as much as I wanted to hate him, the sheer panic in his eyes pierced through my anger. There was no triumph in his expression, no satisfaction—only desperation and fear, as if he were watching something he couldn’t stop, something that terrified him just as much as it terrified me.
“That’s enough,” August said as he kept his eyes locked on mine.
His father didn’t listen, and my eyelids grew heavy. All I wanted to do was go to sleep.
“Enough!” August yelled as he ripped my hand from his father’s grip. The strength in my legs disappeared, but August caught me just as I closed my eyes.